All That Jazz
by Vampire Queen of NOLA
Summary: [AU] In the twenties, Niklaus Mikaelson and his sister have teamed up with a third dashing character, the vampire Stefan Salvatore- it's all fun and games until Niklaus encounters a dainty blonde woman who desperately needs his help.
1. Chapter 1: Swan Song

He's exquisite. Dangerous, an air of royalty to him that is more of a demand than a birthright- but a birthright still, as though he were made for the sheer purpose of ruling all around him. He comes to the speakeasy nightly and makes every damned head turn. Amidst the lights, the laughter, the drinking and merriment earned out of sight and out of mind of the law, she's spellbound by him, and she wants him gone. She doesn't want to see his wolfish grin as he flirts with the staff and laughs with the couple constantly by his side, and she doesn't want to be caught staring. She's spoken for, and furthermore, she doesn't associate with his sort.

Yet she has to ask herself what sort she truly thinks him to be- _Devilishly charming and nothing but bad news, bad news all around._

It's almost as though she can hear the hearts breaking in his wake.

But she can't avoid him, not when she's one of the starring singers and in high demand. Not when her man is the owner of the damned speakeasy and seems to worship the ground the accented stranger walks on. It's nearly sickening, and she's caught between the extremes of despising his existence and craving his company. And what's worse- damn it all, what's worse is that he's begun staring at her. She brushes it off as interest in her singing, but the fire in his eyes speaks of other things. And so, every night, as soon as she's off-stage she's ducking into a back room to sit in her boyfriend's office, avoiding his questions as determinedly as he avoids her own about the new singer he's spent so much time with. There are things unspoken between them. She knows that. She just doesn't want to face the letdown yet again- feigned ignorance is what she clings to, and it takes her far too long to understand that that is a mistake she'll come to regret. The night everything changes is a night when every single bit of 'togetherness' her life might have had is stolen from her, and she's left with her life in the hands of the devil himself.

* * *

"Caroline!" More than a few heads turned as she slammed out of the back room, fury marking every line of her face as the owner rushed out after her. His tie was askew, and he looked more than a little disheveled- the panic in his eyes only increased when he realized the speakeasy's patrons were slowly turning their attentions to the two of them. "Doll, c'mon, talk to me, let's go back to my office-" The blonde he was chasing down turned on her heel, causing him to pull up short in the face of her anger.

"No! You low-life, no good-"

"You're making a _scene_, Care-"

"I don't care!" They most definitely had an audience, standing in the middle of all of the slowing activity; the woman was beyond offended, and she was clearly about to rip into the man, who was hurriedly trying to make himself look more presentable. "There's nothing to talk about, because I saw all too well just how much I mean to you when I caught you in there with her! _Don't touch me,_" Caroline hissed, but she jerked back too late, and his firm grip was near-bruising on her arm. He yanked her close and leaned into her face, his own voice dropping to a low growl.

"I'm not gonna ask nicely again. Office. Now. I made you, I can ruin you."

"I'm not scared of you, Tyler." It was a lie. It was a damned lie, her heart thundering in her chest as she remembered just how violent his temper could get. She had been with Tyler for a year, but she'd suspected he'd been less than faithful- and tonight, she caught him in his office with the new singer he'd hired on. He'd confirmed every sneaking fear that she'd tried and _tried_ to ignore, waving the facts in front of her face and suddenly somehow expecting she'd want to be around him still. There was a hard lump in her throat, and she fought to swallow it down, battling the shiver that chose then to dance along her spine. His fingers tightened, a strangled sound of surprise and pain escaping her throat before she could even try to stop it- and then, there was a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice causing his grip to slacken a bit.

"I believe this lovely lady wishes to leave, Mr. Lockwood. You wouldn't be trying to stop her, would you?" Her eyes flickered past him to the handsome stranger she'd been trying to avoid, and in that moment, she realized that she might be about to see just how dangerous he could be. Quickly, she pulled her arm free and shook her head, not even pausing to rub at the sore, aching spot on the limb.

"No, he's not. It's fine. And none of your business." Before either man could say anything, Caroline turned on her heel and pushed past a few patrons who had gathered to watch the scene, refusing to stop until she was safely out the door and breathing the crisp Chicago night air. Only then did her steps even slow, her hand going to her arm to rub at the spot Tyler had grabbed her- there'd be a bruise. He'd never actually hurt her before, so it had been a shock to the young singer that he'd dared cross such a line. Of course, it was when she was a good three blocks away from the speakeasy that she remembered- Chicago, at night. Not a safe place to wander. She hadn't bothered paying much, if any, mind to where she was going, and she stopped, turning in a circle and surveying her surroundings. She really needed to just go home.

It was her last thought before a strong hand clasped over her mouth and an arm looped around her waist, a harsh voice she didn't recognize escaping the lips that were suddenly at her ear.

"We're going to have a little bit of fun, dollface..."

The hand was covering her nose _and_ her mouth, effectively blocking her airways even as she began to struggle against whoever was holding her. The only response she got was laughter- the arm around her waist was pinning both of hers, and in her panic, she began to nearly hyperventilate, or try to. It only made things worse. A ringing entered her ears as her world began to spin, and the last thing she would remember was another voice, gruff as the first-

"He really shoulda paid up."


	2. Chapter 2: A Singular Hope

"Is she awake yet?"

"No."

"Are you sure she's-"

"She's Lockwood's gal. Dick mentioned her at the last meeting. She's also a singer at that damned place, so he should know- no money for protection, and the pack is gonna make sure he sees how much he needs us."

"Is this really the right way to do this?"

"Don't be a bluenose, Sam. We do what we have to."

"Right, right."

Caroline was most definitely awake, but she wasn't about to give any signs of that. Even without moving, she could feel the ropes around her wrists and ankles, the firm press of the chair she was slouched in. Her neck ached from how her head hung down, but she knew from what she was hearing that it was probably highly preferable to whatever they wanted to do to her. Whatever was going on, it had to do with Tyler- and she could only assume these people had something to do with the crime group he'd made deals with to make sure nobody ratted out the truth about the speakeasy. They managed to keep the cops away from the place, and that was good, but Tyler had recently told her he was done dealing with them. Had he told _them_ that? It sounded like they thought they had unresolved business with him.

"Choice bit of Calico, ain't she?"

"Yeah, yeah, but we ain't supposed to go that far. We just gotta hurt her, bang her up real good then dump her at his place."

"Lockwoods won't be happy."

"It's what they get for- hey, did you see that?"

She'd tensed at the mention of them hurting her, and the blonde sucked in a breath, suddenly realizing that they must have been actually watching her. Slowly, she lifted her head, blinking against the harsh lights above and trying to place just where she was. _A basement?_ Was she actually in someone's home? Before she could really get a good look at the whole of the bare room, a man had stepped in front of her and bent slightly to catch her gaze equally, a humorless smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Hello, pet. We're gonna use you to send a message. Nothing personal."

"Screw off, let me go," she growled- or tried to, because her voice was much weaker than she'd wanted it to be. "I dumped Tyler tonight, he won't care. And this isn't my problem."

"Oh, but it is. And uh, word from the top is if we accidentally end up doing somethin' fatal cause you're struggling, it's not a big deal." Ice shot through her veins as she processed this, and she leaned back from the now-leering man, swallowing hard.

"You wouldn't." There was a click and a sudden refractment of light against the switchblade in his right hand. Without warning, he spun it and grasped the handle firmly, shoving the blade down towards one of her legs. She didn't have time to react whatsoever; the sharpened edges made it all too easy for it to pierce the fabric of her dress and into the flesh of her thigh, tearing a scream from her throat from the explosion of burning pain in her leg.

"Don't test me, dollbaby."

* * *

Tyler was growing increasingly uncomfortable, something which made Niklaus Mikaelson more than a little happy with the situation. Once Caroline had left- Caroline, yes, he knew her name even before tonight, had known her name within moments of seeing her on stage- he'd invited Lockwood to join him and his friends at their table, and that was when the real fun had begun.

"I don't see why you're so concerned with this," the man was saying, his gaze jumping from Klaus to the other two at the table and then back again. Klaus held up a hand, settling back in his seat with a somewhat bored expression. His sister could see through it, could see the absolute hunger dancing in his eyes where most others wouldn't, but she didn't dare point it out. Instead, she leaned her head against Stefan's shoulder, quite fine with simply being a spectator to the whole thing. So Nik had a little crush. It made for good entertainment, if nothing else.

"Lockwood, perhaps you miss my meaning. I am not just _a_ vampire. I am one of the Originals, as is darling Rebekah, here." He gestured to his sister. "That we have allowed you to live is a blessing. So, you should indulge us, lest our gracious gift slip away and we ask our friend if he'd like to paint your little speakeasy with your blood." Tyler sighed, squirming a bit in his seat, his discomfort rising under the unwavering stare of the vampire.

"She doesn't know, okay? She doesn't have a clue." He glanced over his shoulder, catching the eye of one of the other singers and motioning for her to take the stage- this was set as Caroline's stage time, but clearly, she wasn't here for it. Which, actually, was fairly strange. As mad as she was, she would have come back to sing. They'd had huge fights like this before, but she never let it interfere with her work. They kept their business and pleasure fairly separate for that specific reason, actually. She'd only agreed to go out with him if a fallout wouldn't mean she'd lose her job. _But I threatened her with just that when she wanted to leave. _"She's just a human, and I mean, I have one other wolf working for me-" -and he gestured at the dark-haired woman now on stage- "But we keep to ourselves. There's a pack here, they wanted us to join up, me and Hayley, but we cut all ties a few days ago. I didn't want Care wrapped up in all this supernatural stuff. I just want a normal life."

"Your wolf seems to have forgotten how to sing," Klaus muttered, throwing back the amber drink in front of him as he eyed her with distaste. The only one deserving of that stage was the angelic woman who'd rushed out of here in a fury. The girl on stage now wasn't even easy on the eyes- not that he thought even for a moment that he'd be able to focus on her whatsoever.

"Nik, I'm _bored_," his sister whined, and Klaus rolled his eyes, shifting out of his seat and waving an arm to gesture that the other two sitting should leave.

"Then go. Dance. Find a meal. See if I bloody well care. I'm dealing with business, anyways." Stefan and Rebekah wasted no time in complying, Rebekah looping her arm through Stefan's the moment Niklaus had returned to his seat and dragging him off to dance. He watched with a disinterested expression as the two began to dance, sighing softly. "Lockwood, you do realize you do not deserve her, yes?" He slanted a look at the werewolf, who suddenly sat up straighter, frowning.

"What? That's not your choice to make."

"Hm, but if you deserved her, you would know to keep an eye out for those other wolves." Tyler opened his mouth and then promptly shut it, looking confused. Rolling his eyes, Klaus turned back to him fully now, leaning forward on his elbows to murmur to the man across the table. "Allow me to clarify. One of those wolves was watching her all night, and followed her out. Now, I _assumed_ perhaps it was protection you had assigned to her, I know how you wolves work, but it seems, from the look on your face, that you had no idea she was being followed."

"Oh, shit." Klaus arched a brow at the man, who suddenly looked both furious and frightened. (It was an interesting look, and would have been more amusing if not for the woman it involved.) "That's gotta be the pack. Shit. They're- they're a _family_ family, you know what I mean? I-I gotta go find her, I gotta..."

"You made them angry, didn't you?" With a sigh, the Original rose to his feet, gesturing for Stefan and Rebekah. "Stay here. I will deal with this. I think you've done enough damage, pup." He began to step away, but paused as his sister and friend joined him, turning his head slightly. "And Lockwood? If they've harmed her, I will ensure you endure ten times every ounce of pain she has gone through." With that, he nodded for his companions to follow him, not even sparing a single glance to the werewolf they left behind them.

"Nik, what are we-"

"We're finding the wolves," Klaus snapped in a low growl as he pushed the door open, effectively cutting his sister off mid-sentence. He wouldn't try to explain it to her. Wouldn't try to explain it to Stefan. And how could he? What words could even do justice to the way the woman had held him spellbound before he'd even seen her face? Her _voice_, of all things, had ensnared him, and the moment he saw her, he knew he had to have her. He'd already attempted to approach her once, only to be completely ignored as she pushed past him to go and join the owner of the speakeasy in the back. From then, he'd watched both her and Lockwood like a hawk, already having figured out from reliable sources that the guy was far from human. He couldn't claim to hate werewolves, was half wolf himself, but he could most definitely say that he loathed Lockwood from the moment he realized that he was dating Caroline.

The loathing had only deepened tonight. If not for a curious voice in the back of his head claiming that the object of his affections wouldn't take well to him tearing the wolf's heart out, he damn well would have done it, even if it meant he'd need to compel everyone in there to forget it. And Klaus didn't truly know her- not personally, as he'd never been able to earn even a moment of her time, but he was still drawn to her. Fiery. Full of light, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in all of his years alive. Fearless. Talented. She knew her place in the world, or at least knew how to give such an impression- he was determined to know her, and his stomach twisted at the idea of her being in any sort of pain. He'd already had to witness it once tonight.

But he couldn't show any of that. He refused to show that she had such an effect on him, not in front of Lockwood. He acted as though he had no personal stake in things when he spoke to the man, but stepping into the night air, he could feel the looks he was earning from both Stefan and Rebekah. They knew, they had to. He wouldn't go to any lengths to help anyone save those two unless he actually cared. The smug smirk his sister wore had him temped to dagger her for thirty years or so, just to be rid of it. He could feel the implications of that look, could nearly hear her thinking about the fact that her cold-hearted elder brother had finally found someone he truly fancied. He'd thought, after Tatia, he'd never feel anything remotely close to this again. But it wasn't love, and he was going to tear into Rebekah if she dared venture to say as much. Loving someone you did not truly know was illogical, and ideas such as 'love at first sight' were foolish and for dreamers alone.

He'd learned long ago that dreaming like that would do nothing but invite tragedy into your life.


	3. Chapter 3: Breath of Life

The floor was splattered in crimson. Were her head a bit less foggy, it would have concerned Caroline that every bit of it had been shed from her, but the blood loss was finally pulling her into a haze that made even the pain seem a bit less important. Her body was littered with slashes, gouges, carvings that would leave scars and more than a few stab wounds. Her head was lowered, her breaths shallow and pained, and the four men that had been taking turns marking her up were huddled nearby, muttering amongst themselves.

"If we do much more, she could die from the blood loss. She could be dying _now_."

"Yeah, and?"

"And we weren't supposed to _kill_ her, it's much harder to cover up and you know that."

"It's Chicago. People die. Plus, that Ripper fellow has been making waves, whoever he is. If we do more damage-"

"You're kidding, you want to actually murder her?"

"And why not? Sends more of a message. Look, the boss knew this was a possibility, and if Lockwood doesn't have human baggage, he'll rethink our offer. Simple."

Should she have been afraid? Possibly, but the blonde couldn't dredge up enough emotion to truly embrace any sort of fear. The pain would be over, and that much, she could be thankful for. Estranged from her mother and father both, she didn't have family that would really be hurt by the loss whenever they found out. She'd long since lost contact with her childhood friends when she'd moved out here, to Chicago, so the only person who might actually care was Tyler. That was what they wanted. She didn't know if she even mattered that much to him, though, especially when she'd caught him in the process of cheating on her with that slut of a singer he'd hired, Hayley.

She licked her lips before she tried to lift her head, wincing from the dull throbbing that came from them having punched her square in the mouth when they'd gotten sick of her screaming. Her vision was bleary, but she could see them, standing at the foot of the stairs and occasionally glancing back at her. Did one of them look guilty? Was she imagining that?

"I'm not taking part in murder, Clyde. I can't. Look, do what you gotta do, I'm going upstairs."

Maybe she hadn't imagined it. The same man was now turning his back and hurrying up the wooden steps, as though he couldn't stand to watch another moment of her suffering. She would have called out, begged him to help her, but it was useless. Caroline knew it. With a groan, she let her head drop once more, hoping that they would finish things quickly. They began talking again, too low for her to hear, but fell quiet when a loud rapping came from upstairs. The floor above the basement creaked from the weight of someone crossing it, and then, there was silence.

Said silence didn't last for very long, though- not that Caroline was truly aware of it. Right before the basement door was slammed open, her eyes had fallen shut of their own volition, darkness overtaking her as her body slowly caved to the blood loss.

* * *

"Hey, hey, wait! Wait, okay? Klaus!"

They hadn't even made it five feet away before the mutt began disobeying orders. Jaw tight, Klaus turned back towards the speakeasy, finding Tyler with a conflicted look on his face. "You think they have her?"

"Now is not the time to have this conversation, pup," he growled, ready to turn away once more. "Rebekah, stay here with him. Make him sit and _stay_ like a good pup should." The Lockwood man grabbed for his arm, and in a flash, Klaus had him pinned against the brick wall of the closest alley, his fingers vice-like around his throat. Despite Tyler's struggles, his grip refused to loosen, and he narrowed his eyes. "Let me make something clear. You are alive because she cares about you. My patience is reaching its end, and your luck is about to run out. Do not test me, little boy, because I _will_ break you, and take great pleasure in it."

"I-I... know where the-the alpha lives..." Tyler's fingers struggled to pry Klaus' hand loose, and his words came out choked. After a long moment, Klaus released him, frowning. Tyler immediately rubbed at his throat, coughing and fighting for air. "If they... if they have her, it's there. G-gotta be."

"That presents a bit of a challenge," muttered Rebekah, eying Tyler with clear distrust in her gaze. When the wolf had the audacity to look confused, she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Vampires. Need an invitation to enter a home. Really, are you _that_ stupid?" Despite her apparent worry over the presented roadblock, Klaus was actually smirking slightly, exchanging a look with Stefan.

"Oh, I don't know, sister. I think we can handle this. Well, then, pup, you'll be showing us where the house is. Get to it. We don't have time to waste."

* * *

The plan was one that Rebekah was sure would fail. They'd told Tyler to hide himself, and both she and Klaus had concealed themselves in the shadows near the doorway, leaving Stefan to simply walk up to the house and _knock._

That was it.

"Nik, this won't work," she'd hissed at him, but of course, her brother was oh-so-certain it would. Now, she was left pressed against a wall, watching as best as she could as her advanced hearing caught approaching steps. Once the door opened, Stefan offered his hand to the tired-looking man who'd answered, flashing him a winning smile.

"Hello, sir! My name's Stefan. I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time to talk about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?" And while Rebekah was waiting for their luck to run dry, for this to be a wolf old enough to smell vampires, Klaus was fighting to not laugh from his own hiding spot. There was an extended pause, the tired man eying Stefan as though he were crazy, but then he did something that made the female Original quite certain that all werewolves had some form of brain damage. He took Stefan's hand to shake it. Before he could even blink, Stefan had jerked him out of the house and turned him, pulling him back into his grasp. One arm locked securely around the wolf's neck, a low chuckle escaping him. "Oh. Oh, that's wonderful. Klaus, you're brilliant."

"And you said it wouldn't..." Klaus had begun to step onto the porch, but he paused, his nostrils flaring and all amusement at the present situation instantly vanishing. "Get us inside. Now." It only took a moment for Rebekah to join them and understand Niklaus' sudden change of tune- there was blood in that house, a lot of it. Stefan, on the other hand, didn't seem to take much note of the blood, but he did hear the distinct undertone of urgency in his friend's voice.

"Alright, little wolf, you heard him. Do you own the property?"

"N-no, I-"

"I do," came a voice from behind them, seething with rage. The trio turned, Stefan dragging his captive around as he did so, and they found an older man holding Tyler by the collar, unconscious. He dropped him, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let him go."

"Do you, by any chance, have a will laid out?" Rebekah hopped over the few steps as she spoke, strolling almost lazily towards the man. He arched a brow.

"Yes. A whole line set in place. Unfortunately for you, the next owner is in France at the moment. If you want in, you'll go through me. Now what do you want?" Klaus shoved past Rebekah, stepping directly in front of the wolf and glowering, nearly shaking with rage.

"You have a girl in there. An innocent human _girl_. We want her. I smell enough blood that she could be dying. Invite us in now, or I promise you, you will wish you were dead." His voice was almost indecipherable for the growl mixed in with it, but the reaction he got was not what he was expecting. The man suddenly looked somewhat confused, and then angry, glancing past Klaus towards the house.

"I told them-... fine. Come with me, and release the boy. He's an idiot, but he isn't involved." He stepped past the Original, stalking towards the entrance and pausing just inside to call behind him, "All of you, come in."

Killing him now would revoke their invitation. It was the only thing that kept Klaus from ripping his heart out as he flashed past the man into the house, pausing long enough to try to pinpoint the smell. When his eyes fell on a door, he was across the room in a moment, kicking it from his hinges and nearly reeling from the sudden thickness of that damned scent in the air. Blood, and it _had_ to be hers. There were three men at the bottom of the stairs, and all of them met quick ends by his hands- one lost his heart, the other two had their necks snapped. Normally, he might have drawn it out for the love of battle and played with them as a cat might play with a mouse, but near the center of the bare room, she was slumped in a chair, and he could _hear_ her heart beginning to fail from the blood loss.

Upstairs, Stefan had stubbornly refused to release the young werewolf he was now dragging around with him as he surveyed the rest of the house, investigating every room. There was supposed to be a whole pack of wolves, but they must not all be in the house, because he'd heard Klaus make quick work of whoever was in the basement and aside from them, they only had two others. Rebekah had wasted no time in knocking the assumed alpha out and was now leaning against the basement doorframe, surveying what she could see- three dead wolves, a door not far from them. That was all. But she could _hear_ easily, and what she heard had her more than a little interested.

"Caroline?" Klaus was whispering, kneeling in front of the unconscious human. He reached to gently brush her hair out of her face, his hand faltering on her cheek as he realized her lips were bloodied and there was a bruise forming along her jaw. "Oh, sweetheart..." He'd already untied her wrists and ankles, and he brought his wrist to his mouth, tearing it open so that the blood flowed freely. Gently, ever so gently, he tilted her chin up and coaxed her mouth open, pressing his wrist against her lips once he had and praying to whatever gods might exist that it would get into her system and prevent her heart from failing. "You will not die. You'll heal, do you hear me?"

Stefan had joined Rebekah at the top of the stairs, and he, too, was listening in- there was a line of crimson at the corner of his mouth, and the wolf boy was nowhere to be seen. Rebekah reached to brush it away with her thumb, genuinely smiling, which earned her a confused look from Sefan.

"Why are you so happy, Bekah?"

"Because I think this woman is going to be good for Klaus." Her gaze shifted as she heard a breath of relief escaping her brother in the basement, and focusing a bit more, she could hear the improvement in the woman's heartbeat. "Maybe he'll stop being such a prat..."

"I heard that." Blinking, she glanced down, her gaze finding Klaus standing at the foot of the stairs, cradling Caroline's body in his arms. "We need to get her home, and for that, we'll need Lockwood. Go wake him."


	4. Chapter 4: Lifting the Veil

As it turned out, Caroline was living in an apartment in Tyler's name- when he'd said he'd made her, he hadn't been very far from the truth. The 23-year-old singer had come to Chicago seeking a new life and a fresh start, and after hearing her sing, he'd given her just that. The blonde had nothing, had spent the last of her money getting from her hometown of Mystic Falls to Chicago, and so Tyler had given her a job and bought her an apartment. (Apparently, the Lockwoods were very well-off, and had the money to spare.) He didn't go for simplicity, either. The place was a penthouse, one of the newer designs for apartments, and very well-furnished; he could take that all away, if he wanted, as her name wasn't on the lease and probably never would be. To say Niklaus was a bit perturbed to hear just how many facets of Caroline's life Tyler controlled was an understatement, but he focused more on the girl than on the annoying mutt, telling himself he would take care of things later.

And so, it was Tyler who invited them into the place, leaving Klaus to hand Caroline's still-unconscious form to his sister and tell her to get her cleaned up and into bed. "We'll be staying until she awakens," he told the werewolf; Tyler clearly wasn't pleased, but he wasn't a complete idiot. They'd helped to save her, so leaving them there and going back to his own apartment was a bit easier than he'd initially thought. It wasn't that he trusted them, but the way Klaus had handled Caroline had been enough for Tyler to convince himself that the man had to have some semblance of honor. He had to talk to his father, anyways- if the local pack had been angry with them before, they'd be enraged now. They had to make preparations, just in case, and make a few phone calls to ensure they'd have protection of their own.

While Klaus and Stefan shared drinks in the living room, Rebekah took Caroline back into her room, gingerly working to clean all of the blood away from the wounds- most were healed, though the more vicious were still in the process of closing. Even with vampire blood, some had been near-lethal without even adding in the blood loss, and it hadn't taken them long to get her home. It wasn't until she laid the human in bed that she spoke, her voice soft as she pulled the covers over her.

"You're special, somehow. Not sure how. Pretty face, of course, but Nik has seen so many of those in his time... what is it about you, hm? You've got my brother all tangled up in your web, and I'm not sure you even realize it..." She sighed, settling on the bed next to her and brushing a stray bit of hair from her face. "I'm not sure if you can hear me, while you're sleeping, but you remind me of myself. You should stay away from the wolf boy. He'll only hurt you." Under the vampire's watchful stare, Caroline began to stir, groaning softly at the aches that remained in her body. It wasn't until her eyes fluttered open that Rebekah took her chin in her fingers, her touch light but firm. "If you hurt my brother, I _will_ kill you, Miss Forbes. Remember that."

"Wh...what?" Caroline was confused, pulling from Rebekah's grasp and trying to sit up. "Who... how.."

"Rebekah, go sit with Stefan. I will handle this." Klaus must have been listening in. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring daggers at his sister. Rebekah rolled her eyes, but she stood and moved past him, pausing only when his hand snagged her wrist. "You touch a single hair on her head, and you'll join our siblings, am I understood?"

"God, Nik, don't be such a prat," she snapped, tearing her arm away and stalking out to join Stefan in the living room. He was sitting on the couch, pouring himself another vodka and looking decidedly bored; of course, that changed the moment she plopped down next to him, huffing her displeasure at her brother's words. "He's bluffing. He has to be." Stefan threw an arm across her shoulders, trying to pull her against him, but she stayed stiff, snatching one of the two remaining glasses on the table- the only one that was, as of yet, untouched. She snagged the glass bottle filled with clear liquid and poured herself a drink, tossing it back in one gulp before refilling it and finally slumping into his offered embrace. "I don't _get it_, she's just a little _human_."

"Oh, come on, Bekah, let him have his fun." Stefan lifted his own glass, studying the liquid with a thoughtful expression. "Maybe he wants his own personal walking snack. She _is_ nice on the eyes."

"Shut up," Rebekah snapped, smacking his chest with her free hand. "I'm _much_ prettier than she is."

"And you want your brother thinking that?" It was hard to misconstrue his raised brow as anything but amusement.

"_No_, but you need to remember that. I _know_ you watch her, too."

"Only because your ego gets a bit too big when I continually stare at you. Besides, jealousy is a good look on you." At that, she couldn't resist a small smirk and twisted in his grasp, draping her legs across his lap and tilting her head to study him. Did she love him? Well, yes. Her brother might like to say she gave her heart too freely, but there was nothing about Stefan that made her think she'd made a bad decision. Perhaps the best part was that Niklaus actually seemed to _approve_ of them, which was, in itself, something she would have claimed would never happen. According to him, nobody was ever good enough for his little sister, but she'd been seeing Stefan for a while now. It was like he had integrated himself as a brother to Nik and a lover to her without any effort whatsoever. Hopefully, Mikael wouldn't find them here, and they could stay like this forever. Rebekah actually felt at home here.

"You know, if he catches you watching her, he'll tear out your liver and feed you it."

"Jealousy is a Mikaelson trait, then? Good to know. But don't worry, Bekah, you know I'm not going anywhere." With a grin, he leaned forward to attempt to steal a kiss- her response was to turn her head away, looking stubborn.

"Oh, no, _no_, I'm mad at you right now." A lie. She couldn't even mask it in her voice, the way she sounded more playful than annoyed. "A _singer_, really. You know, _I_ could sing just as well as her." While she spoke, he'd leaned forward slightly to set his glass aside; now, both hands moved to settle on her waist in a flash and lift her to deposit her more fully in his lap. She didn't fight it, moving with him, and in the end, she was straddling him with a bemused smile playing across her lips.

"I'm not interested in _singing._ I like it better when you scream."

* * *

The torture seemed like a horrible dream- there were flashes of it in the back of her mind as she watched him in the doorway, hidden behind the muddled thought of, _Why is he in my apartment? What is he doing here?_ But every muscle in her body ached horribly, and something felt different, strange. Another memory, one of a whisper, began to scratch at the walls of her consciousness and try to break through. Before she could try to push the haze of tiredness away and investigate more, however, he was speaking, not moving any closer just yet.

"Do you remember?" It was a quiet murmur that made the memory scratch more incessantly, but she shoved it away, sinking back into the comfort of her blankets without responding for a long moment.

"Why are you here? How did you get into my apartment, and how did _I_ get here?" Concern knit his brows together as he studied her.

"Something horrible happened tonight, and I helped you. But I can take all of that away, if you want."

_You will not die. You'll heal, do you hear me?_

His voice. She couldn't quite put the pieces together, but that nightmare was feeling more real by the moment, and Caroline knew he was a part of it, somehow. But from what she remembered of the nightmare- _not a nightmare,_ part of her whispered- he hadn't been one of the ones hurting her. It couldn't be real, but something said that it was- a mental check of her body had her assured that she wasn't truly injured, just sore, so how could any of that be real?

Pressure on her lips. Something hot, metallic, sliding down her throat.

"What happened to me?" He made as though to step into the room further, but the way she curled in on herself with a mixture of fear and defensiveness in her eyes had him pausing. "What did they do to me? What did _you_ do to me?"

"You became what most would call collateral damage," Klaus offered, the quiet of his tone sullied by an undertone of anger. "Lockwood made enemies, and they struck back through you. If you truly want to know-"

"Of course I want to know!" His eyes widened slightly as she forced herself to sit up, clutching her blankets to her chest as though they were able to protect her from him. Ah, as familiar as he was with others staring at him in horror, seeing it from her hurt him in a way he couldn't have predicted. But, at the same time, that _fire_- she was terrified of him, and he could see that, hear it in the thunder of her fragile heart in her chest. Still, she had the courage to snap the words at him, staring as though through sheer force of will she could make him bend to her wishes of wanting to know the truth. He couldn't guess at the amount of confusion she was feeling, yet still, she was fixated on dispelling the confusion, despite thinking he was a danger to her. _Why? Why is she so willing to present herself like this to one she fears so fully?_

That was the draw of her, at least part of it. Caroline Forbes had never proven herself a coward, not in his eyes. She was a phoenix- Lockwood had burned her in the middle of his speakeasy, trying to tear her down, but she had risen above it. She had nearly lost her life to those wolves, yet here she was, rising above her fear and confusion and demanding answers of him that he wasn't sure he should give. Like a phoenix, from the ashes, and by whatever gods resided above, she was leaving him at a loss for words by acting as such. He brushed a hand over his mouth, a sign of nerves and agitation that he'd never fully realized he did, and forced down the anger he felt at those who had taken her and tormented her. They'd been dealt with. There was nothing more he could do, especially not right then.

"Well, it may be hard to believe." The man tried for a wry smile, but her gaze didn't falter, and she didn't soften in the face of it.

"Try me."

"You live in a world of obscurity, darling. You're asking me to reveal to you the very monsters of your worst nightmares." That much did seem to give her pause, watching him with a more wary expression than determined now.

While Caroline was a very, very logical woman, she would (if she saw fit to try) find memories buried deep in her childhood of finding strange weapons hidden in a hallway closet she'd thought her Christmas presents might be in. (She'd received a sound whipping for that one.) And then, of course, the necklace her father had given her before he'd left her mother, telling her to wear it at all times because it would keep her safe- one that had a strange scent to it, a locket she'd never been able to open. She'd asked him what he meant, but Bill Forbes wasn't inclined to tell her much beyond the fact that there were more things to fear in the world than she realized. That self-same necklace lay on her vanity on the other side of the room, often discarded because she felt it wouldn't match her outfit. All of that, if she pondered hard enough, might lead her to believe what he'd just said.

Of course, it didn't occur to her to think of those things. She didn't like thinking about her childhood as it stood, or of her family, or of home. Still, his words struck a strange chord, rang with familiarity from the mere phrasing, and it was almost as though she wanted to believe him. But why? What could he be talking about? The world had monsters enough as it was- just this year, she'd heard about what Northcott had done in California, and that was just the first one that came to mind. So how could there be more? Did he maybe think that she didn't know about that sort of stuff? Her mind was absolutely spinning, and her exhaustion wasn't helping with the thought process.

"I want the truth," she finally breathed, still clinging to her covers as though they could serve as a barrier between herself and the man that had haunted her thoughts since she'd first seen him. "All of it." And for the longest of moments, she was left wondering if he would deny her demands, turn and walk away, leave her wondering for the rest of her life what precisely had happened. But then, he began to speak, and she almost wished that she hadn't asked.


	5. Chapter 5: A Bitter Pill to Swallow

_Chicago, Chicago, don't you know, it's the place to __**be**__, dollface, nothing's gonna change that._

She told herself that it couldn't possibly be real. Her nails caught a bit of her skin, squeezed, and the pain flashed momentarily- long enough that she knew she couldn't be dreaming.

_Vampires._

_Werewolves._

_War on the horizon._

"It's not possible," Caroline finally said, pressing her lips into a resolute line that seemed to scream that she couldn't be convinced otherwise. What had happened in the past twelve hours? How had everything so very suddenly changed? And when, exactly, had she _lost her damn mind?_ "Not real. No. This- this is _insane_, you're asking me to believe in- God, just, just _dry up_, I don't care where you go, but don't stay here." He was still hovering in her doorway, watching her with a decidedly neutral expression, but something changed in his eyes when she told him to leave.

"Caroline-"

"No!" As everything settled in more fully, an invisible hand seemed to grasp her lungs, squeezing the air out them. She had never been one prone to panic attacks, but this was too much; eyes screwed tightly shut, she ducked her head, fighting to breathe in through her nose and exhale through her mouth evenly. In an instant the air seemed to shift, and she could feel gentle fingers grasping her chin, urging her to lift her head once more.

"Open your eyes, I can help. _Open your eyes._" Klaus held her chin firmly in his fingers until she did as he instructed, instantly catching and holding her gaze. "You will calm down. You will not panic." Unbelievably, her heart and lungs both complied, air suddenly easier to take in and the erratic pace of the muscle in her chest fall back to perfect regularity. She should have been even more unsettled and panicked by this, but her condition refused to waver from perfectly calm. A small smile tugged up the corners of his lips as he settled to the bed beside her, unable to reach his eyes and cover the wariness there.

"What did you do to me?" she whispered, confused. "Why am I so calm now?"

Caroline never would have expected to see him show guilt- especially after all he'd told her. He was supposedly a vampire, a creature of the night, something stolen straight from a Bram Stoker novel. Not that she believed him. It would be foolish to do as much; besides, he didn't _look_ like a monster. (He didn't look like a madman, either, but who else would spew such nonsense?) Still, there it was, flickering in the depths of his eyes as he seemed to consider his answer very carefully before gracing her with it.

"I compelled you. Think of it as.. almost mind control, in a sense. It's a power that all vampires have." That word again. It made her grimace, dropping her eyes. "I told you to be calm, and so you will be, no matter what happens."

"I'm not sure I like that," she grumbled, refusing to look at him. Refusing to admit that by saying that, she was almost admitting that a part of her was beginning to believe him. Something- someone- with the ability to make her do whatever they wanted? Just by, what, looking in her eyes? Is that what had done it? God, to think she'd come to this city a few years ago in pursuit of her dreams- working at a speakeasy, right under the noses of the law, singing sweet jazz tunes and slow ballads to entertain the classiest of the lawless of Chicago. Living at one of the most expensive sorts of apartments, fully furnished, leaving the whole of her past behind her in favor of glitz and glamor. Sure, there were downfalls before. There were a couple of families in the city one had to avoid, of course, and crime could seep into _anyone__'s_ life, but that didn't mean there was anything truly evil in the city. She'd thought she was safe.

Now, she was faced with information she just didn't want to process, believe. Her boss turned into a beast under the full moon, werewolves sought to close in and seize the control they thought was so rightfully theirs, and guardian vampires were popping out of the woodworks- that is, if Niklaus had truly saved her. He claimed he had, with his blood. His explanation of what had happened seemed so unreal, though. Blood that could heal nearly any wound? Fiends that lived off of blood, true _devils_ that had fought to save her when the wolves had taken her and tortured her? She'd been so certain that crime bosses were the worst of her worries, and they _liked_ the speakeasy, so of course, she didn't think they were a threat. It was like there had been some sort of veil keeping her in blissful ignorance of the true evils of the world.

But the near-frightening logical examination of everything she'd been told as she sat there had Caroline inclined to begin believing him, now that her volatile and tender emotions weren't flaring up to interfere with her thoughts. If he could keep her calm so easily, how far-fetched was it that the other things he'd said were true? Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his, her jaw tight as she tried to find the right words. "Prove it. You have no fangs. How can you be a vampire?" To her surprise, Niklaus chuckled, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"Very well, but I want you to remember- I will never hurt you."

"That remains to be seen." Her words were biting, harsh, but they didn't seem to phase him. Instead, he shifted a little further from her, holding her gaze as something in his face began to shift. _Change_. Her eyes widened as blackened veins began to rise beneath his eyes, his lips parting to reveal vicious canines. Whatever he'd done was still working, and she didn't panic- instead, a morbid sort of curiosity took the place of what might have been fear, and she found herself unconsciously reaching for his face before she realized it. Once her fingers brushed his cheek, she froze, stunned that he still felt, well, _human_. Soft skin, though what she'd expected, she wasn't sure. "Oh, my God." Those suddenly demon-esque eyes of his closed at her touch, the man stilling beneath her hand as though to not frighten her away. Slowly, Caroline's fingers traced upwards, ghosting over the black veins before following a light path towards his chin.

Her hand finally dropped away, slowly, her mind reeling with this new information. When he opened his eyes, his face faded back into normalcy, wearing something of a guarded and emotionless mask. "You really are a... a..."

"I would never hurt you," he repeated firmly. "I may be a monster, love, but never to you."

"Why?" she asked, confused. "Isn't that your nature? To hurt? To kill?" He shook his head.

"Well, yes, in a sense. We are predatory. But that does not mean it is our nature to be _monsters_. Still... you, you're strong. Beautiful. Full of light." A small smile curved his lips. "You deserve all of eternity, the whole of the world at your fingertips. You're unique, unlike anyone I have ever met in all of my years. I could never allow myself to harm you, and if I can help it, nobody else will, either." He seemed surprised when she began shaking her head. Strange as it was, she almost pitied him for his misconceptions about her. The world, her own individual experiences, it had dirtied her into dull _sameness_. She was not, and never had been, anything special. How she'd been treated by those she cared about proved as much.

"No. I'm just a small-town girl trying to get by. And instead I get caught up in the middle of... of... some sort of war, or dominance match, or _something._" Calm though she might be, that didn't mean she was willing to just open her life to all of these supernatural things. Pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her forehead on them, refusing to look at them. "I don't want to be a part of this. You should just leave me alone. Just... go."

"My leaving you right now will not change things," he murmured.

"Go away. Get out of my house, just... just _leave me alone_, okay? I don't want to be a part of this." And then, quieter, "Please. I can't." The only answer she received was silence; when it had lasted for what felt like an eternity, she lifted her head, ready to try to push him out of her home forcibly. He was already long gone.

* * *

Despite Klaus' obvious agitation when they left Caroline's penthouse, Stefan didn't dare ask him what was wrong. He'd been half-focused on teasing Rebekah while they waited in the living room, but the other half of his attention had focused on the conversation in the next room. He didn't question Klaus compelling the doorman to ensure no strangers were allowed into the complex- even if they were werewolves, they wouldn't be obvious or try to attract attention to themselves, surely. Not so soon. They had to know that if their presence was detected in any way near Caroline, they'd be killed. That they'd try anything so soon was unfathomable, or so Klaus seemed apt to think. When Rebekah actually broke the silence encasing the three of them as they walked down the street, it was with a question that nearly made Stefan wince.

"Bit daft, leaving her there unprotected."

"Yes, well, she wants nothing to do with _this_, with _me_, so that's what she'll get," her brother snapped, a low growl in his voice. The man was easily offended, and it was clear the moment he'd left her room that she had hurt him. He had told her absolutely everything, but she was refusing to fully believe him or accept the protection he'd wanted to offer her. Did she really think that by closing everything supernatural out, she'd be safe from it? Stefan's arm tightened around Rebekah's shoulders, urging her to drop the subject, but she didn't take the hint.

"Nik, we made them angry, you know they won't let this drop so easily." He was a few paces ahead of them, and he spun on his heel to face them, his small bit of control snapping.

"Let them! She's asked for it! It will be her _own_ fault!" he roared. Stefan's hand dropped to Rebekah's waist, squeezing once more, a bit rougher than he'd done with her shoulders.

"Klaus, let's go grab someone to drink, eh? Get your mind off of all of this crap." He flashed a grin to his friend, who shot him a daggered look before turning without a word and continuing on. Stefan bit back a sigh, shaking his head silently. Oh, this was _not_ going to turn out well. He hesitated long enough to glance over his shoulder, towards the building they'd just left. Part of him almost pitied the girl. If something happened to her, she wouldn't even fully die.

She'd just come back as a vampire, and then, she wouldn't be able to pretend she could ignore the supernatural facets of her world.


End file.
